


finding out (about you)

by CringeCityMayor



Series: finding out (about you) [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Anal Fingering, Bottom Miya Atsumu, M/M, Masturbation, Post-Time Skip, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-29
Updated: 2021-01-29
Packaged: 2021-03-15 05:15:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29058840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CringeCityMayor/pseuds/CringeCityMayor
Summary: Sakusa Kiyoomi sees something that he cannot get out of his mind... that thing being Miya Atsumu.
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Series: finding out (about you) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2131896
Comments: 2
Kudos: 125





	finding out (about you)

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not good at naming things, I'm sorry.  
> I have read over this story, but please leave suggestions if my grammar, spelling, or anything else is wrong.  
> This will be a series.

“Miya, you forgot your-”, Sakusa paused after stepping foot into Atsumu’s hotel room. They had been practicing for a few away games, the MSBY managers having rented a gym for a few days. Sakusa was holding a black and yellow water bottle, through a layer of wet wipes, deeming the bottle dirty. 

With the hotel room door swung open (using the spare keycard which they all had to give their Captain in case of emergency), Sakusa had done a short inspection, eyes sweeping over the one-person hotel room. It was clean, sheets made despite the ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign on the door handle of the room, clothing folded neatly on the end of the bed, cleaning supplies on the sleek black desk the hotel provided. 

Atsumu did not have mysophobia, which was well known, and made evident by his habit of sticking his tongue out in every photo and high-fiving their teammates after a satisfying spike, but from looking at his hotel room, Atsumu seemed to be a pretty neat guy. The sound of the running shower was prominent, making itself known, the wall between the toilet and the rest of the room thin. As he stalked closer to the bathroom door, he heard more than just the spattering shower.

The sound of slapping, skin on skin noises, furiously fast.

The sound of moaning, low, with an attempt to quiet them.

The sound of occasional hiccups, hitched inhales turned into high-pitched noises.

The sound of-

“Fuck…”

Without a doubt, that was the voice of Atsumu. Only the voice of Atsumu. An unexpected wave of relief washed over Sakusa as he tried and failed to hear any other voice in the shower. 

What had he just walked into? What had he just thought about? Why was he relieved? Sakusa tried to shake those thoughts off, tried to ignore the obscene noises coming from the bathroom. He walked over to the desk, setting Atsumu’s forgotten water bottle down onto the black stained wood. The desk had a thick layer of gloss on it, and it smelled as if it had been thoroughly wiped down, a mixture of alcohol and the faint scent of bleach filling his senses. He decided against leaving a note, walking towards the front door of the hotel room. 

He didn’t make it, the sound of sweet moans and high-pitched whimpers drawing him in. 

So he stood there, in front of the bathroom door, listening to the debauched noises coming from Atsumu’s throat, air rushing from his lungs, strumming the folds of his vocal cords. The shower was loud, and the pressure was high, knowledge gained through the test that Sakusa had conducted the morning they had arrived (which was a few hours ago). Before Sakusa could stop himself, he found his fingers crawling their way up to the handle of the bathroom door, quietly opening it using the bend of his wrist, and then taking a step in.

“Ah! Uhn… fuck!”

Through the steam of the mildly hot shower, Sakusa could make out Atsumu’s form: His back towards the blurry sliding glass door, squatting on his tip-toes, left forearm perched on his thigh to balance himself. His waist was small, and his shoulders wide. His legs were spread, muscled thighs flexing as he lifted himself up and down, slowly but surely. Was he doing squats? While masturbating? That was expected of him, the kind of person who always worked hard. His shoulders were caved in, hunched over, and...

“Fuck! So deep!”

Those words hit Sakusa like a train. Deep? Was he… was he fingering himself? Through the slapping of the water hitting the floor, another rhythm of slapping could be heard: it sounded like clapping, the loud squelching noises being the only thing setting the two sounds apart. Sakusa counted them, seven thrusts per second. He could imagine it: Atsumu moaning, the palm of his hand making harsh contact against his perineum, two fingers up his ass. He couldn’t help but stare, as he stood in front of the vanity counter, eyeing over Atsumu’s form. He seemed to be using his right hand, the hand that he used to spike false sets from Hinata. The hand that he used to perform setter dumps, when he could. But when he couldn’t…

“Mmm, it’s not as good…”

He would use his left hand, performing setter dumps just as skillfully, but a little weaker, unable to send the ball slamming into the ground. It sounded slower, five thrusts per second. Sakusa observed as Atsumu frantically tried to twist his left arm to find a good angle, whimpering like a sad puppy when he failed. Atsumu settled on letting his left arm relax, instead moving his fingers, as Sakusa could tell by watching the contraction of the muscles in his arm.

“Ah! Fuck…” Atsumu hiccuped. ”The curl is so much better, though…”

Atsumu let his right arm gain strength again, and Sakusa watched his every move. He pulled out whatever slivers of self-discipline he had and ripped his eyes away from the shivering man in front of him, opening the bathroom door and left without a trace, having completed his task of returning Atsumu’s water bottle. 

(Sakusa had gone straight to his room, locked the door, and immediately headed into his bathroom to take care of his little ‘problem’.)

The next day at the gym, Sakusa had walked into the gym, to the sight of Atsumu performing squats. Normal ones this time.

“Atsumu-san, doing squats again? How many of those are you gonna do?”, Hinata asked innocently, bouncing around him.

“As many as I have’ta, I guess. S’just for warm-ups, ‘f I actually had to do squats I would’a busted out the dumbbells already.”

His legs were spread out (less than yesterday), and his feet flat on the floor, curling his arms when he bent over and held the sitting position for around three seconds, before straightening his legs again. His thighs (the main attraction), bulged as he lifted himself up and down, flexing as he warmed them up.

“Ah! Hi, Omi-kun! Thanks for returnin’ my water bottle!”, Atsumu smiled warmly as he thanked Sakusa for his help.

How did he know? Did Meian tell him? Did his teammates snitch on him, and how he volunteered to go? He stared at the high windows and he wondered, borderline panicking.

Practice was particularly grueling, their Captain setting up practice matches between the team, and Atsumu had to deal with the worst of it, their receivers becoming tired and not being able to get the ball high enough for a standing or jumping set. But, while Atsumu could have easily pulled off doing an underhand receive for a set, his stubbornness pushed him to do a limbo set every time. And every time, Sakusa would observe, as those thighs, Atsumu’s thighs, as they squeezed for a parallel set, low to the ground, perfectly sending the ball upwards for Bokuto to kill the ball.

Even when Sakusa saw Atsumu pant and gasp for air, hiccupping a little, he kept at it, continued to bend his legs for the perfect set, even when he was provided with a not-so-perfect receive.

They had dinner, going to a restaurant, the booth not really allowing Sakusa to sit as far away as he would like. Everyone had showered, he hoped they had cleaned themselves properly, but his position between Meian and Atsumu seemed pretty okay. He knew that Meian was responsible, always having a clean lemon smell, and Atsumu, which he had found out yesterday that he valued cleanliness quite a bit. Both of them tried to give Sakusa his space, understanding his phobia, but all Sakusa wanted was Atsumu to lean into him, press his thick thighs to his own, rest his head into Sakusa’s shoulder. He observed as his teammates ate quickly, Hinata and Bokuto stuffing their faces. Then, he turned his head to his left at Atsumu, surprised when he saw him eating slowly, chewing his food well, keeping relatively quiet.

Meian noticed his behavior and commented before Sakusa could.

“Atsumu, are you okay? You seem kind of out of it.”

“Eh? No, I’m fine, jus’ a bit tired s’all. Nothin’ out’a the ordinary.”, it had taken him a second to respond, which was also a little concerning.

“Yeah! Training was rough today! I wanna play some real matches!”, Bokuto said, having just finished swallowing his mouthful of food.

“Right then, once everyone is finished we can leave. We’ve already shared the bill, so that’s covered.”

So, with the free time he had before he went to sleep, Sakusa thought.

He thought about how he had never had sexual intercourse with another human being or living organism before.

He thought about what kind of cleaning supplies Atsumu uses, not being able to remember what he had seen on the desk the day before.

He thought about Atsumu, how he whined like a puppy. His parents had always allowed him to have pets, if the company of his siblings was not enough, but none of them ever got one, after thinking about the maintenance they required.

He thought about Atsumu. Sakusa had found out that there was a form of masturbation called ‘anal masturbation’, where the anal cavity would be used like a woman’s vagina. It did not look pleasurable, although after Komori showed him this disgusting and unhygienic way of pleasuring oneself, he found out that a lot of people enjoyed this, especially homosexual men who did not have a designated place for another male to ‘rail’ them (this unusual term also taught by Komori).

Did Atsumu have experience with this? Had he ever had sexual intercourse with another man? Another woman? Was Atsumu homosexual? His brain flooded with questions, washing out all forms of rational thought.

Was he gay? Sakusa had fangirls, that’s for sure, but were there other males who found him attractive? He thought that he was always destined to marry a girl, preferably who shared her fear of germs with him. But Atsumu was pretty responsible, kept himself and his surroundings clean. He had an attractive body, his abdominals well-trained, pectorals so full he wanted to squeeze them (although they would not feel anything like a woman’s breasts). And those thighs, those huge, strong thighs, made of lean muscle, Sakusa wondered if he could find even an ounce of fat on them. He wanted to bite them, lick them, suck on them (though he wondered if those actions were normal, and if they would make him look like a cannibal).

So that’s how he fell asleep, just thinking. Wondering if Hinata could recreate Ushijima’s southpaw spin using his left hand. Thinking about how he could get the right amount of topspin using the twist of his wrist, and the strength of his fingers. He wondered if Atsumu’s fingers were strong, whether he could perform a spike with the ball only coming in contact with his fingers, if he could push it down. And then the thoughts would go down a rabbit hole of just thinking about Atsumu, and what he had seen. He fell asleep with cock half erect, laying heavy against his abdominals. 

And then, after a full night’s sleep, Sakusa woke up with a full out hard-on. Sakusa probably had dreams, but he never remembered them, and this night was no different. He must have thought about something disgusting, filthy, inappropriate. Probably about Atsumu, but he didn’t pay any mind to the person that he could have been dreaming about. It was 6:01 AM, and he had to prepare for another day of practice, hoping that it was harsh so that he could silently revel in the burn of his aching muscles once more. 

(And so he could observe a tired but happy Atsumu)

So he went about his morning routine, brushing his teeth, hopping in the shower to rid himself of the crawling feeling he had on his skin whenever he woke up (and to take care of his erection).

Another day of practice, nailing his topspin serves, observing as Hinata practiced his left-handed spike and giving him advice based on what he had learned from Ushijima from his years of watching his nasty, heavy spikes and serves, loaded with left-handed spin. Sakusa watched as Bokuto practiced a spike only using the strength of his wrist and fingers, pushing the ball down as he reached the highest point of his jump. Adriah was practicing his receives by diving for the balls Bokuto sent over the net. 

“Omi-kun! D’you want me to set for you! I’ll make them good!”, Atsumu called out to him, standing in a court with Inunaki on the other side, prepared to bump the ball.

So he spent the rest of the practice like that, spiking Atsumu’s sets, with Inunaki receiving them on the other side. Practice runs on longer than it should, and after a few practice matches where Hinata gets to make use of his setting skills.

They had dinner, and then returned to their rooms, and just when Sakusa had finished showering for the second time after practice, he heard Atsumu’s showerhead turn on...

**Author's Note:**

> I'm usually busy with homework but I will try to write a little more.  
> It probably will not be regular, but maybe once every two weeks?  
> (Also I have no idea what a 'work skin' is)


End file.
